The Wayward Compass
by the rye
Summary: Jack's compass has always pointed to the thing he desired the most. So why does it point to Anamaria, who is mere seconds away from the fate of hanging at the gallows? jack/anamaria


**author's notes: **once again, i have decided to contribute to a genre that i adore so much. this is my first attempt at writing jack/anamaria and there is a huge hunking piece of backstory prequel attached to this little lovely. i'm just dipping my feet in the water. if you happen to be on livejournal, check out the journal flameandignite where i'll be archiving all my jack/anamaria et jack/tia fics.

**disclaimer: **i don't own potc and if i did i would not be grumbling at the sequels because they would not exist and if they did it would focus on jack sparrow and jack sparrow alone.

* * *

"You mean to tell me you would not have saved me if your bloody compass hadn't been pointing at me?"

The truth was finally coming to surface and Anamaria was standing with a hand on her hip and the other pointing at Jack.

Jack Sparrow, a man she thought she'd never see after her departure from the _Black Pearl_ on to her own newly christened ship, named proudly the _Havana Fever_. Jack had mocked her decision for choosing such a name that she stood by it with such determination and indignation veered in Jack's direction that he eventually agreed it was a fine enough name.

Now, however, they were sitting on the beaches of Tortuga, what could have been a perfectly romantic night – filled with rum, the moonlight, stars, the ocean, and all the other frilly nonsense.

Anamaria was sitting with her knees up and her arms resting over them, eyes reflecting Tortuga nights and how peaceful it was when everyone spent their time in the tavern getting drunk and finding the first harlot they could.

Jack had come waltzing towards her, rum bottle in his hand, and lazy grin on his face.

She didn't argue with him as his hand would absently glide over the curve of her back, tug gently at her hair, or let his hand rest idly on her lower back, so dangerously there… but not too far down.

"Love, if it wasn't for me compass I don't think I'd ever see ya' again. And that would be awfully dreadful."

Those were the words he'd said to her as they set off in a larger boat than the one he had come sailing onto the coast of the Caribbean. She was pulling the noose from her neck and dropped it into the boat. Jack was gazing at her with a certain confusion that Anamaria had not quite noticed. She was too busy looking at her would be doomed fate to pay him any mind. When they were out far enough, both Jack and Anamaria kept the boat close to shore, dangerously sailing over rocks when they reached a rougher patch of the shore. She fell with a thud into the boat, onto her bottom and rubbed absently on her neck.

How Jack had managed to save her from that noose was a story within itself and one that Anamaria would save for later. For now, she would thank Jack in many different ways until she was absolutely sure her debt would be paid.

Jack, on the other hand, found that discovering Anamaria was a thing of the unexpected. Bless her; she stood there with the noose around her neck and looking to the sky obviously praying for some sort of miracle or rescue. Jack stood in the crowd, already an outlaw himself, gazing down at his compass and staring back at her.

Anamaria felt her knees go week as the noose seemed to tighten of its own accord around her neck, listening as the bastard that had helped catch her utter the infamous words, "Anamaria Towhee, you are hereby sentenced to be hanged until dead for your participation in piracy...."

His face would contort in confusion and he would absently mumble but that compass still pointed itself defiantly and directly to the fearless Anamaria. Apparently, she'd committed a number of crimes, none that Jack remembered except for the one, piracy, which was truly the only real reason they'd been excited about their latest catch.

"Well, if I must," he whispered to no one in particular and found himself causing a commotion and running through the crowd onto Anamaria's stage of death.

And soon, he was sitting in his boat, with a compass that still pointed to her.

"Where do I start with thankin' you, Captain Jack?" And she leaned over in the boat and wrapped her arms around him.

And that was really how the compass "situation" started.

"What if you didn't have the compass, Sparrow?" The rum had finally done its job and Anamaria was feeling quite good about the night. And Jack, whose own body had been immune to rum since he was eighteen, only watched her jaws move as she spoke. He would never fully outright tell her but he loved the way her tongue tangled the R's when she said his name.

"Well, you'd be an unfortunate duck." Jack shrugged.

Anamaria sighed, "Well, let's say you _didn't_ have the compass." She looked over her shoulder at his roguish hand, now sitting just atop her backside. His hand paused and she went on, "and I was stranded there with a noose around my neck. Would you leave me there?"

"Well, love," Jack's lips pursed as he was preparing himself for this. In truth, the sight of Anamaria with a noose around his neck terrified him like no other. He'd been more horrified that she'd managed to get herself caught than the fact the compass had been pointing in her direction.

"It's like this, love," Jack sat up next to Anamaria and handed her his bottle of rum, preparing for the truth, "don't take offense to what I'm about to share with ya' but I had me own head to look out for, savvy?"

Anamaria's reaction was a slow one, a slow painful, torturous one but Jack smirked. In truth, he had every intention of saving her, compass or not but it was nice seeing her get riled up. "You see," he pointed but missed Anamaria just in time, as she stood and turned to look at him, putting a hand on her hip. And what a lovely hip it was.

"You mean to tell me you would not have saved me if your bloody compass hadn't been pointing at me?"

"You'd have to be a bloody fool to believe that I would let them hang you by your pretty little neck." Jack remembered how just weeks ago, his lips had been on that pretty little neck.

It rather hurt and he let her know.

"Love, really, now, would I leave ya' to be hanged?" He was following her on the beach, following the rum more like it. When Anamaria was like this, it was best to let her sulk so she wouldn't take anger on his body parts.

"I was just taking the piss out of you. Come on, love. Joke. _Joke_!" He added with emphasis. "Besides," he went on, nearly tripping on his own two feet, "you saved my life once before!"

She stared down at him and narrowed her eyes. "You saved my life because I once saved yours?" She asked it quietly and for a second, Jack thought it was working until she shook her head.

Absolutely unbelievable. The entire time Anamaria thought that Jack had done it because of their last encounter before they'd set eyes on one another. Words were not the way Jack expressed himself, she'd learned that the first time she'd met him. He expressed his feelings through actions. Things such as, saving her from being hanged and risking his own life in the process - told her that he cared deeply for her. She returned her own feelings with actions of her own...

Now, the truth was truly there for her to see.

"Oh, you are impossible, Jack. Here I was, foolish me, thinking you were doing it out of affection, out of _that_," she pointed to his compass, hidden in his pocket, "Maybe you - oh I don't know!" She felt stupid, really and truly stupid to think he would actually have real _feelings_ for her. Even with all the women he'd fooled around with, even when he'd expressed clearly he was connected to the sea goddess, Anamaria still felt that he had a strong affection for her.

For he always came back to her. Always.

When he'd stolen her ship, she swore she wouldn't forgive him, then she'd found him and she was aboard the ship he half-heartedly promised her, only to learn that hadn't really been her ship in the first place. And after they'd fought with the crew for their rightful place upon the _Pearl_, she sailed with him until she'd discovered that she fancied the last ship they'd looted. And Jack made the crew jump ship and gave Anamaria her ship.

Of course, he hadn't let her depart without a good and final goodbye and Anamaria knew one day, he'd return to her and so he had, to save his damsel from the fate of the gallows.

That sounded horrible, really, but Anamaria still couldn't stop smiling. Of course, now, she learned it was only because he "owed" her and that made the details of that little fantasy go all fuzzy.

Anamaria's confession, a long and painful one that Jack had been awaiting and not truthfully sure he was ready for came at him like a nice sack of potatoes. That was as close to "I love you" that he would get from this woman, this insufferable woman he couldn't seem to get away from.

Elizabeth had departed from them, elixir to the Fountain of Youth in her hand; smiling blissfully and patting her now very round stomach, awaiting the return of her husband.

That was Anamaria's idea.

Jack just happened to agree that it would make more sense for someone in need to have it. The truth of it was depressing but watching Barbossa stand on the island with the expression of pure hatred as he sailed away had always worked well. The fact that cannibals had inhabited that island of Pelegosto made it increasingly better.

"You don't know _what_, love? I think you know very well what this is." He motioned to the space between them. "It is inescapable I am truly starting to see. How I see it is that you need a part of me and I need a part of you." Anamaria quirked an eyebrow. She was interested. "Until the next adventure and all that," he added hastily.

Anamaria rolled her eyes.

He'd started calling her love their second encounter. It drove her mad and that only drove him to say it more.

"And you could join me on the next adventure, you know, seein' as you don't really have a boat."

Anamaria looked at him for a moment; the hard expression she bore was starting to soften. That was just his way of expressing himself.

"Savvy?" He finally added.

Jack held out a hand for her to shake and she simply stared at it. He wriggled his fingers, still not exactly _sure_ why the compass had continuously pointed at Anamaria, but had an inkling of _why_. He'd always wanted her - from the time he'd seen her in the kitchens of Lord Beckett's lavish mansion, to the painful slaps he'd received in Tortuga, to the time of her near hanging. That compass never lied and Jack knew what must be done.

"Savvy," Anamaria replied and reached to shake his hand.

Suddenly, Jack snatched her hand and pulled her until her slender body pressed against his own.

"Savvy," he said once more, his voice a lot softer, a bit huskier, and oddly possessive.

Anamaria looked at his set of white teeth, decorated with gold, always amazed at how lovely his teeth were for a pirate and felt her defenses lower when he wrapped an arm around her waist. He tilted her back slightly and shot her his famous crooked grin. "Bring me that horizon," he said in low timbre and before Anamaria had time to reply, his lips were pressed to hers.

This kiss, not particularly different from the others, had become Anamaria's favorite.

It was a kiss that led to exploring the seas together and the birth of their first child. A girl named Knox, with mischievous eyes like her father and a temperament like her mother.


End file.
